


No Love

by Quarra, xantissa



Series: No Wolves Allowed [13]
Category: Castlevania: Lords of Shadow, Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Biting, Blood Drinking, Don’t copy to another site, Feels, Incest, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Relationship Negotiation, relationship building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 10:49:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18569893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quarra/pseuds/Quarra, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xantissa/pseuds/xantissa
Summary: Two lovers and no sex, what has the world come to? Good thing Dracula has a back up witcher.





	No Love

**Author's Note:**

> Notes from Quarra: This fic takes place a few weeks after [Fun is a Matter of Perspective](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18195425/chapters/43040978). You likely need to read that to get what's going on here. Though...maybe you'll be able to wing it? 
> 
> A huge thanks to [Dira Sudis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsudis/pseuds/Dira%20Sudis) for beta reading for us. WE LOVE YOU.

Dracula knew Alucard was somewhere in the castle; the very walls hummed with his presence. He wasn’t in the bedroom, though, which Dracula considered a crying shame. There was nothing better than the sight of that white hair spread out on his dark sheets. 

The more he thought about what kind of view Alucard could make naked and laid bare on black silk, the more he wanted to see it. Wanted to kiss him, fuck him, wreck him, and watch him be all pretty, just for Dracula.

The training room was a no-go as well, though he could smell Alucard’s sweat there so his son obviously wasn’t too long gone. He considered just letting himself become mist and reforming where his son was, but decided this was fun, too. A little like a hunt. 

Next he tried the baths. The fragrant steam that filled his nose almost hid the signs of Alucard’s passing. Alucard was clearly here for only a moment; the scent of him was barely detectable on the stone where he walked and sat.

Intrigued about the hurry, Dracula let himself drift towards his son’s personal rooms. Normally Alucard loved spending hours in the hot water. This rush wasn’t usual for him.

Finally he reached the heavy double doors to Alucard’s bedroom and pushed them open, whatever locks were there opening under the touch of his hand.

Alucard was standing in front of his bed; it was almost as big as Dracula’s own. He was half dressed in clothes Dracula had gotten used to seeing in Castlevania, the modern suits and tightly fitted shirts.

He had dark charcoal pants on him, so well fitted that Dracula spent a minute admiring the way they highlighted the small, pert ass he adored. His son was shirtless, but his hair was bound in a very tight braid that partially hid his ears. Just enough to keep their pointed tips away from prying human eyes. Dracula walked slowly towards him, letting his eyes trail over Alucard’s lean, well muscled chest. So different from his own, but oh so pretty. He wanted to touch it, to kiss and lick those pretty dips and swells and to bite into that pale skin, leaving a hundred marks behind.

“Father.” Alucard greeted him with a smile, but he didn’t stop his preparations. He had a white shirt in his hands.

Dracula drifted up to stand beside him. As Alucard slid his arms into the shirt sleeves, Dracula couldn’t help but lay a hand on the bare chest in front of him. What a pleasure it was to touch, to feel the muscle move under his palm while Alucard dressed. What a pity it was being covered up.

“You’re heading to the city,” Dracula said quietly. He leaned in to press his nose against Alucard’s temple and took a deep breath, luxuriating in the smell of him. Then he put his hand on one sharp hip and curled his fingers around, feeling the body warmth through the thin clothes. 

He wanted Alucard to say that the trip could be put off, that whatever business he had could wait for a few hours. Or a day or two. Alucard took his duty as champion of humanity very seriously. As he should, Dracula supposed. As much as Dracula hated humans, he couldn’t deny that he loved his son’s stubborn streak in caring for them.

“Care for a little delay?” he murmured, pressing his lips to the fragile skin of Alucard’s temple. He pulled him close enough their chests were touching.

That caused Alucard to pause, and Dracula loved the little shiver that raced through Alucard’s body. It made him lean closer, and press another kiss to the hinge of Alucard’s jaw.

“I cannot,” Alucard said, his voice thick with regret. He didn’t start moving again, though. Another little shiver ran up his body, and he tilted his head into the kiss. “There is a negotiation I am nearing the end of. I’ve been pressing them for days, forcing them into just the right spot.” A vicious, little smile curved at Alucard’s lips, and he showed just the barest hint of teeth. “The final terms will be set this morning. By nightfall their holdings will be mine, and I’ll be able to put them to more sensible use.”

How interesting to see his son on the hunt. For that's what this was, whether or not Alucard realized it. Dracula could see it in the way he held himself. There was a relaxed tension that sang through him, and his fangs looked just a touch longer than usual. How exciting.

Dracula licked gently over Alucard’s lips, teasing both of them with the barely there caress.

“You sure?” Dracula said softly. “I could make it good.”

Alucard let out a harsh breath. “You always do.” He took another slow breath and closed his eyes. “After. I will return after.”

Dracula let his hands slide down to that pert ass he admired before and used that hold to press them both close for a second.

“You are leaving me so unloved,” he said with a smirk. “So lonely.”

Alucard snorted.

“Find Geralt. I am sure he’ll give you all the loving you want while I’m gone.”

A tiny thread of disappointment curled up in his chest, but Dracula quickly suppressed it. He knew very well that Alucard had duties he would not let go unattended, and it was true that now there was Geralt to turn to. 

Besides, it had been kind of fun to stalk Alucard’s scent through the castle. Maybe tracking down Geralt would be just as amusing.

“Hmmm,” Dracula rumbled into Alucard’s neck. He liked how the pulse there jumped under his lips, and couldn’t resist laying one last kiss there before he pulled away. “Pawning me off onto Geralt?”

“Yes,” Alucard said without a shred of guilt, making Dracula laugh. As soon as he had the space to move, Alucard resumed dressing. His graceful fingers made quick work of the buttons of his shirt, and then he turned to look at a tray of cufflinks. 

“So ruthless.” Dracula didn’t bother to hide the appreciation in his voice. 

“And you like it, don’t you?” Alucard reached for the only cufflinks with red stones in them. Dracula knew he chose them for him and that mollified him a little.

“I do,” he agreed softly. It was very tempting to try and delay Alucard anyways, but he knew that wasn’t the right move. Instead he held himself still, watching Alucard’s every motion. 

Beautiful.

In only a moment Alucard had settled a tie around his neck and was putting the final touches on his appearance. 

With a sigh, Dracula let the bedroom door open directly into the portal room. No use making Alucard travel the long way through the castle now. The sooner he went, the sooner he would get back.

Dracula couldn’t help but feel a touch grumpy as he watched the portal flare up and his son step through the darkness. He really wanted somebody to hold right now.

Then he remembered Geralt. Well, since he was already in the portal room he might as well. He focused on the piece of his own soul he implanted into Geralt and opened a portal for himself. He was going to follow Alucard’s advice. 

After all, having two lovers had to have more advantages than only having one, right?

The portal opened up to a shadowy alleyway, and it was second nature for Dracula simply to be one with the darkness around him. Geralt had a sniveling, dirty man pressed into the wall, one hand at the man’s collar and the other holding a knife to his throat. From the small twitch in his direction, Geralt had sensed him arrive but he kept his attention on the man in front of him.

“Who killed it?” Geralt asked evenly, almost pleasantly. “Surely your drinking buddies aren’t worth all this hassle?”

“N-n-no, don’t,” the man shuddered. 

“Oh please, you’re trying to ask mercy of me? As if you and your friends didn’t go out murdering non-humans for fun.” The scorn was thick in his voice.

“It wasn’t me!” The man was crying now and the tears made tracks in the dirt on his cheeks. “Jeak wanted to! He said trolls kept the gold of everyone they’d ever killed, and we all know they’re filthy monsters! But it’s a plowing _troll_! We couldn’t kill it if we tried. I don’t even own a sword, what was I going to kill it with? I told Jeak to go sleep it off and went home. I didn’t kill anything, I swear!”

Geralt seemed to consider this. He hummed quietly and tapped the flat of his knife on the man’s neck. 

A smile curled across Dracula’s face. Fierce pleasure burned inside of him to see how frightening Geralt could be, and how competent he was at his work. Dracula leaned into the wall behind him and settled in to watch.

“I agree that you are too much of a pussy to actually go after a troll,” Geralt said with a sigh, irritation creeping back into his voice. “But that means there’s somebody else in this dumphole of a town that did it, and you”---Geralt shook the man sharply---“are going to tell me who it might have been.”

The man practically fell all over himself to babble everything he knew about a number of people. Most of it sounded like useless bullshit; the rambling of an idiot who was nearly pissing himself in fear.

Eventually he ran out of relevant things to say. Geralt shook him again, getting his attention and stopping the flow of words.

“I’m sure I don’t need to explain what will happen if I’ve found out you’ve been a lying sack of shit,” he growled. The man shook his head furiously, eyes wide as could be. Geralt dragged him off the wall and shoved him away. “Get the fuck out of here. Don’t make me waste my time killing you.”

The man stumbled all over himself to get out of the alley, even tripping and falling once before he could scramble away. Geralt watched him go, and then turned to smirk at Dracula.

“Enjoy the show?” Geralt asked with amusement.

“Very much,” Dracula rumbled, coming closer and reaching for the side of Geralt’s head. Geralt tilted his face into his hand and the scruff on his jaw scratched at Dracula’s palm. “Want to make more of a show for me?” Dracula stepped closer until their chests just barely brushed each other.

Geralt groaned softly and let his eyes flutter shut. “Oh Gods, I want to…”

A frown twisted at Dracula’s lips, and a bad feeling came over him at the way Geralt trailed off. “But?”

“But I have a limited amount of time to track down whoever killed this troll. Her mate is furious, and he’s got the location of my actual bounty. If I can’t get the morons who decided to meddle with the local forest dwellers tonight, my mark will be long gone before I find out where it’s nesting.”

“Why not just get that information out of the mate by force?” Dracula asked curiously. He grazed his claws against Geralt’s jaw, knowing just how much that sharp sensation made Geralt hot. Sure enough, he was rewarded with a visible shiver and the sight of Geralt licking his lips.

“Because I am fairly sure it would rather die than help me stop whatever is killing the townspeople. The only thing he wants more is to get the heads of those who killed his mate. If it can’t get that, it’s going to be very happy to watch something else eat its way through this and neighboring towns.”

Dracula sighed quietly, now even more grumpy. Just as being a champion for humanity was a intrinsic part of Alucard, so was hunting monsters an ingrained part of Geralt. Dracula would have kept them both by his side always, but doing so would destroy something inside of them. Still, it didn’t seem fair. He had two lovers. While one was busy at least the other should be available!

That didn’t make it any easier to be turned down. Especially as he had already let Alucard go.

He harrumphed.

Geralt ran a gloved hand down Dracula’s bare chest, stalling to brush his thumb over a nipple and rub it back and forth into hardness. The scent of Geralt’s want coiled through the air and Dracula leaned in to breath it in.

Before he could do anything else, Geralt steeled himself and let his hand drop. 

“If I start, I won’t want to stop.” Geralt’s voice was rough and low. He shook his head. “I can’t afford to take the time to fuck you like I want to.”

This couldn’t be happening.

“A month here or there won’t make a difference,” Dracula cajoled, stepping closer to press into him. “Humans multiply so quickly anyway.”

“That’s not how it works,” Geralt said with a huff. “I’m on a hunt. Besides.” He paused and then shrugged with one shoulder. The movement was almost casual, but Dracula could read the tension there. “It would bother me if people died when I could have stopped it.” He let his gaze drag down Dracula’s body. “No matter how much I want to delay.”

Dracula growled low in his throat, but didn’t move forward like he wanted to. Instead he dragged his claws down Geralt’s neck and rested them against the pulse there. He wanted mark that skin up, wanted to stake his claim once more.

“You will join me after,” Dracula said, his voice dark with threat and promise. “And then you won’t be able to walk for days.”

It pleased him to see the way the faintest tinge of pink spread across Geralt’s cheeks. 

Geralt cleared his throat.

“Yeah,” he said hoarsely, and nodded. “Just as soon as I get this particular nasty taken care of.”

Dracula pulled Geralt closer. There was just a touch of resistance at first before Geralt let himself be pulled in. As much as Dracula didn’t like to be turned down, he loved how Geralt gave in, even with that little movement. 

He pressed his lips to Geralt’s in a dry, chaste kiss. Then to his cheek, feeling the prickle of the newly coming in beard against his lips. Geralt needed a shave; he always let himself get prickly in the middle of a hunt. Then Dracula nudged Geralt’s head to the side and pressed his lips to that long, strong neck. He licked there, getting a taste of sweat and skin, and then he sucked. He wished his marks stayed longer on Geralt. They healed much too fast. He sucked until he heard the familiar hitch in Geralt’s breathing pattern and then he bit. Not hard enough to break the skin, just enough to make Geralt feel it. To give him something to think about while he hunted.

“The longer you are gone,” Dracula said quietly, “the more time I have to plan just what I want to do with you.”

“Fuck,” Geralt whispered, and steadied himself with a hand on Dracula’s waist. “Fuck, you are the most tempting, distracting, fucking…” He swallowed hard and let his hand drop. Much to Dracula’s disappointment. “Yes. After this hunt.” Geralt nodded again. His eyes closed and his hands balled up into fists.

Despite Dracula’s growing frustration and disappointment, it was fun to see Geralt so flustered. He nosed into Geralt’s jaw, rubbing his lips back and forth over the bite mark.

“What do you suggest I do in the meantime? Don’t you have any compassion for my loneliness and frustration?” Dracula rumbled. Maybe he could get away with some more touching before Geralt remembered he had a job to do.

“Alucard?” Geralt’s voice was breathy, and he leaned ever so slightly into Dracula’s hold.

That made Dracula growl and nip at Geralt’s neck again. 

“Also has duties to tend too.” He couldn’t keep the sullen unhappiness out of his voice. “He threw me at you.”

Geralt winced, and rubbed his cheek into Dracula’s lips. “Of all the bad timing,” he said under his breath. “What about Eskel?”

Dracula made a low, wordless rumbling sound in his chest.

“What am I? A hot potato to be juggled from hand to hand?” he asked. The corners of his lips pulled down.

“You were the one who got so many hands in the pot,” Geralt snickered. “You can take advantage now.”

Dracula’s frown grew and he held Geralt a little tighter. “Eskel won’t want to fuck.”

Geralt snorted.

“You chose to mark him as yours knowing that.”

Dracula grumbled. 

Yes, he did. He knew Eskel wasn’t like his lovers, but that didn’t stop him from wanting. There were times he thought Eskel wanted it, too, but held himself back for whatever reason. The whole situation was mildly frustrating. He couldn’t understand Eskel’s obvious embarrassment or hesitance. It wasn’t like Dracula proposed to fuck him on his throne in the attendance of every single demon inhabiting the castle. Dracula was all for giving him privacy. The level of embarrassment Eskel was displaying was definitely baffling. But Dracula was willing to wait and see where it went. 

He had time.

It was encouraging to see that Geralt seemed willing to keep Eskel involved with all of them. Drag him closer, even. That boded well for the future. 

“Fine,” Dracula said. “I will go find Eskel.”

Whatever was in his voice made Geralt smile broadly and his eyes twinkled with amusement. “Be kind to him.”

Dracula smirked.

“Aren’t I always?” He was pleased to see the ‘oh shit’ expression flit through Geralt’s face. Yes, he did just feed Eskel to Dracula’s appetite.

The look was brief, though, and Geralt leaned in to give Dracula a scorching kiss. He was an expert with his tongue, and it really showed; he knew just how to play, to taste and tease. Right as Dracula was considering just pressing him to the wall and taking him there, Geralt pulled away. 

“After I’m done,” Geralt said, his voice rough with desire. His eyes weren’t focused quite right, and his breath came out in a sharp pant. “I will come to you when I am done.”

Dracula licked and nibbled at Geralt’s bottom lip. “Go then. Finish your hunt. Kill your prey. Return to me successful. I’ll be sure to reward your diligence.” 

There was another moment, no more than a couple of heartbeats, where Geralt looked like he might stay. His gaze lingered on Dracula’s lips and he leaned forward just a touch. Then he smirked and left the alleyway.

Leaving Dracula alone. 

_Again_. 

He sighed, and pulled the shadows in around him again. This whole situation was most unsatisfactory. He wanted his lovers in his arms. Someone warm and firm. A heartbeat under his hands and the taste of skin on his tongue. 

Two lovers and _neither_ of them free. 

Geralt did have a point with Eskel, though. Even if sex was off the menu for the night, Dracula could still have someone of _his_ to hold. He licked his lips, savoring the lingering taste of Geralt’s neck. 

Maybe Dracula could convince Eskel to share a little blood. He’d have to be a little sly about it, but it seemed very possible. The fond memory of feeding from Eskel in Steingard’s dungeon floated up in his mind. Eskel did taste wonderful, especially when not poisoned. Such a mix of desire, pleasure, and embarrassment. As if he were ashamed to need the contact that Dracula offered. 

Ridiculous. Much like Alucard in that way, now that Dracula thought about it. Refusing the very thing that would make him feel whole, safe, and happy. 

Well. Dracula knew how to deal with that. 

The problem with finding Eskel was that his mark wasn’t anywhere near what Geralt’s was. Dracula had a little piece of Geralt’s soul in his keeping, and had given a bit of his own to replace it. Geralt was _his_ , body, mind, and soul. Eskel had made a deal with Dracula, true, though he didn’t seem to realize it; physical closeness as a relief from loneliness and distress in exchange for Eskel’s loyalty to Geralt and Alucard. It was binding, but Eskel still owned his soul. On top of that, Dracula had further staked his claim with a mark on Eskel’s chest; that further deepened their connection, but it still wasn’t nearly as complete or powerful as Dracula’s hold over Geralt. This somewhat nettled Dracula, but he sensed he might gain satisfaction in the long game.

What it meant for the moment was that Dracula could find Geralt easily and teleport to his exact location. But with Eskel, he could only sense a general direction. Currently that was somewhere west of him.

With a sigh he let his body disassemble, becoming nothing more than a particularly dark shadow in the night.

Time to do some looking.

Almost faster than the human eye could see, Dracula slipped and shifted through the city. If anyone saw him, it mattered very little. There wasn’t any being or creature here that could challenge him, and Dracula himself had little interest in the goings-on of humans. By now he was in a bit of a hurry, too. Turned down by both Alucard and Geralt, and now he had to actually spend time looking for Eskel. 

The whole situation was very displeasing. 

Within a few moments, Dracula was out of the city. He raced through the villages and fields, skipping and flying in the night. The longer he traveled, the more his frustration grew. But Dracula was swift in his shadow form, faster than any horse or bird. The countryside flew by him and slowly but surely the sense of Eskel’s presence grew closer. 

Soon he would find Eskel, and then he’d get what he wanted.

Eventually he slowed and reformed, sensing that he was coming close to Eskel’s location. In front of him stood a massive, ancient forest. 

Dracula sighed. Of course Eskel was out on a hunt, wandering through who-knew-where in the dirt. 

“No,” Dracula said to himself. “No I am not wandering around through this, this… _wilderness_.” He knew damn well that if Eskel was on the move, his sense of where Eskel was would be shifting around too, potentially making this little chase all the more drawn out and irritating. 

He stretched out a hand and brought forth a teeming mass of darkness, a little portal for some of his servants to come through. With a twist and a pull, he dragged a group of hellhounds into this reality. 

The black beasts were mostly made of shadow. They had large shaggy heads with three eyes which glowed like banked coals, and white teeth that shined among all that darkness. They were larger than a wolf and their bodies constantly shifted from solid flesh to shifting shadow, and back again. Only the barest glimpse of the power those creatures were capable of was visible at any given time; to ordinary humans they would seem a teeming mass of darkness. 

Their wet noses brushed at his hands, sniffling for power as they crawled around his feet, bellies low to the ground. He’d acquired them when he conquered the Hell realm. They weren’t like any other demon he ever encountered. Their bites were different, tearing not only flesh but the very soul. A bit of an overkill maybe, but very useful for their tracking ability.

“Find me the witcher Eskel,” he said softly to them. “Locate him only, and lead me to him. Go.”

He’d barely ordered them away and they were off and running, graceful and deadly in the dark shade of the forest. Within moments they let up the first howl, signifying that they’d found the scent. 

Excellent. 

He followed after them, flitting from shadow to shadow. This time he would not be denied his satisfaction. 

\---

Eskel made sure to move quietly through the thin underbush. The summer was long and hot here, making the leaves gathered on the forest floor a little too dry for comfort. He had congratulated himself on making camp in the grassy area outside of the forest proper. Safer there, and more comfortable for both him and the horse. He had thought he would find the Frightener within the day and be on his way back to the camp to rest and recover by nightfall. 

But of course, things were not going according to plan. The sun was already setting and beyond a few tracks there was still no sign of his bounty. The beast was hiding, as if it could sense that Eskel wasn’t just another villager it could eat for a snack.

He paused in his tracking. While he could continue at night, he wasn't totally sure he wanted to fight a Frightener alone, at night, and in a forest he wasn’t familiar with. The damn thing would be hard enough to kill already. He’d killed one before, but he’d had help and it was on familiar ground. But he wasn’t sure the beast would even stop to rest for the night. It was a magical construct. Chances were good that it could keep going indefinitely. If Eskel paused now, he could lose it.

He’d just resigned himself to tracking the beast through the night when he heard a distant, eerie howl. It was answered by a second, then a third.

That was not the call of a natural animal. Not even close. The octave range was all wrong, and the sinuous way the harmonies blended together was clearly monstrous in nature. 

Unsettling as it was, the world was filled with monsters. A distant howl wasn’t worth getting panicked over, though he did curse his bad luck. Of _course_ he had chased an extremely dangerous monster into a forest already filled with other dangerous monsters. That actually happened more often than he wanted to admit, so he was as prepared as he could be. It just made him sigh in resignation and keep tracking.

When the howls got significantly closer, Eskel started to worry. It was possible that the pack of whatever-they-were had caught his scent on the wind. Dusk was quickly turning to night, and the forest was thick with shadow. 

Just in case, Eskel downed a few potions. Swallow for healing, Cat for vision in perfect darkness, and Tawny Owl for quickly replenishing endurance. 

The next howl was closer, definitely moving in his direction. Two more came close its heels, and Eskel started looking for a good place to fight. His medallion started to vibrate softly, urging him to get ready for an attack. It worried him how fast the calls were approaching and how many there were. Putting down a whole pack of unknown beasties wasn’t in his plans for today.

The first creature came out of the trees like a bat out of hell. Eskel’s first impression was that it was big, hairy, and black as night itself. It looked almost like a wolf. Only it was bigger by a good amount. Hairier, too, and it had three glowing, red eyes. As much as Eskel knew about monsters, even with all his experience and despite the bestiaries he studied, he never even heard of anything like this.

The beast turned left sharply, circling him instead of attacking. Eskel pulled out both of his swords. Chances were good that silver was what he needed here, but both couldn’t hurt. The bright red eyes of the creature messed with his sight; the glowing light emanating from them left trails in the air. He kept his eyes on it and the area around him, wary of the rest of the pack.

Next two came out of the forest yipping excitedly and howling. They turned right as one. Eskel did not like that they instinctively took the opposite direction of the first beast, indicating experience in pack hunting. They didn’t stop, either. They just kept circling him at an easy lope, making it difficult to keep them in sight. He cast Quen on himself, and waited for the first attack.

Within the next few minutes another five creatures came out of the darkening woods. They all clamored, howling and giving those strangely hollow yips. The call was unlike anything Eskel had ever heard from any creature before. Canine, yes, but empty. As if they were barking from inside a well. Each one had three eyes, smoldering red and solid in their massive black heads.

But they didn’t attack. They just kept circling. Perversely, that only made him more worried. They were waiting for _something_.

A familiar sensation teased at his senses, faint at first, but then quickly growing. Coming closer. 

When another smaller pair of red, glowing eyes manifested in the darkness, Eskel was almost unsurprised.

“Dracula,” he said with an exasperated sigh. 

Sure enough, Dracula’s familiar form slipped into sight. His eyes dimmed to their normal deep red, and a hungry smirk curled at his lips.

Eskel looked at the beasts. Some of them separated from their brethren and ran over to Dracula to lick at his hands. That accomplished, they merged back with the group, circling Eskel as if he was the next snack on their menu. From the looks of it, they were taking turns. Perhaps so each beast could get a lick in. Despite the fact that Eskel knew that neither Dracula nor his minions were any threat to him, the beasts put him on edge. He found he couldn’t bring himself to put away his swords. 

“I’m busy,” Eskel said, thinking of the incredible ruckus the hounds were making and how skittish his prey was. This was going to make his hunt that much harder.

“With what?” Dracula asked, patting the next hound that came for a lick. There was something vaguely terrifying in the submissive devotion the beasts were showing the vampire who, in turn, barely paid any attention to them.

“Frightener. Big, mutated by magic, murderous monster?”

Dracula shook his head.

“Never heard of it.” Then Dracula looked at the hound at his feet and said, “Go.”

As one, the hounds turned and jumped into the woods again, passing Eskel and Dracula with thundering steps. They yipped at each other the whole way, and their voices faded away into the distance with worrying speed. As they ran off, the vibration from Eskel’s medallion tapered off as well. 

Just as Eskel was opening his mouth to say something, the hounds started howling again off in the distance. Only this time the howls were mixed in with growls. Another moment of listening added in a different noise too. The growls of something much bigger than the hounds.

The Frightener.

Screeching and barking echoed through the forest. The fight didn’t last long. Within moments the only sounds he heard were the hounds, yipping joyously and howling every so often. The roaring of the Frightener was gone completely.

“I guess you are not busy after all,” Dracula murmured innocently.

Eskel blinked. He had to wonder what was so important that Dracula would send demonic dogs to hunt him down. “Are Geralt and Alucard alright?” he asked, suddenly worried.

“They are fine.” Dracula waved his hand. His expression soured. “Busy.” He said the word the way other people cursed, with no little amount of disgust.

Eskel blinked again and sheathed his swords. He struggled for a moment to find something to say. This was hardly the first time Dracula had sought him out for whatever reason, but he did seem far more annoyed than usual. 

“Are your beasts going to leave enough of a corpse for me to collect my bounty?”

“Depends on what you need for the bounty,” Dracula answered matter of factly. The wind tugged at his dark hair but his red, armored coat was heavy enough it only swayed a little behind him.

“Head by preference. Claws are good for making potions.” Eskel thought for a moment, mentally digging through the recipes he knew. “Eyes are good for potions, too, and powerful ones at that.”

“...They might leave the head,” Dracula said after a moment of thought. “No idea about the rest.”

Eskel sighed.

“You hunted with those creatures often enough to know?”

Dracula made a gesture as if chasing away a fly.

“They are very loyal,” he assured Eskel earnestly, coming closer to him.

“Well, that’s good.” Eskel wasn’t really sure what else to say to that other than to point out it wasn’t an answer at all. “I need to go collect that trophy.” He paused awkwardly. “I have a camp set up on the edge of the forest. If you want to join me?”

“We can go straight to the camp.” Dracula was almost in touching distance now. “The hounds will bring what they haven’t eaten to us.”

Eskel nodded, still feeling a little unsettled. 

“Which direction is the camp?” Dracula asked. He was now standing so close that Eskel could easily take in the burning ember scent of him.

Eskel pointed the direction.

“Why are---” He never got to finish. Dracula looked where Eskel was pointing, nodded, and took hold of Eskel’s shoulder.

“Hold on!” Dracula interrupted him cheerfully.

Then Eskel was surrurrounded by hundred upon hundreds of flapping, screeching bats that dragged on his clothes and his body, pulling him up into the air. Everything was noise and movement, flapping leathery wings and rushing air. Eskel flailed, wanting to hold onto something, anything, but feeling only the leathery brush of innumerable bats all around him. 

He tumbled around in the night air, swearing up a storm. Happily, the flight didn’t last long. Before he knew it, the mob of swirling, tiny creatures descended, so rapidly that Eskel’s stomach gave a lurch. Then he was dropped onto the ground with a heavy _thud_.

“Fuck!” Eskel scrambled around for a moment. He’d landed right in his little camp, not more than a dozen feet from his now screaming horse, Scorpion. The poor beast danced and reared in place, shying back away from the rapidly disappearing bats.

“My apologies,” Dracula rumbled.

Eskel blinked. Dracula’s body was only half formed. Only the head and upper part of his chest were solid; the rest was still mostly made of bats trying to cling to each other in a squirming mass. Disturbing didn’t even came close to how it looked. “It’s the first time I have carried anyone in swarm form.”

Eskel blinked at him, then waved a hand dismissively. This was fine. Sure. Everything was fine.

_What the fuck was even going on here._

He scrambled up ungracefully and went to tend to his horse. The poor thing was straining against where he had tethered her, eyes white-lined and teeth bared. 

It took long moments of cooing at her and slowly stroking her neck until she calmed down enough that Eskel stopped worrying she was going to hurt herself. He dug around in his pouch for a pressed honey and fruit bar, and fed it to her as an added treat. That went a long way towards mollifying the animal, and soon enough Eskel turned to look back at Dracula. 

He nearly jumped out of his skin. Dracula was _right there_ behind him. He’d finished forming his human body and was watching Eskel with a focus so intense it was nearly a physical sensation. One clawed hand reached up and curled around Eskel’s neck like a hot brand, sending shivers up his spine.

“Take off your clothes,” Dracula growled at him. The red in his eyes sparkled like popping coals. 

“What?!” Eskel squeaked, flinching back. But the hand on his neck held him in place. 

“Come on.” Dracula used his other hand to pluck at Eskel’s collar.

Eskel slapped a hand against his clothes to keep them in place and, well, _squeaked_ , though he would never admit to making such a noise. He pulled back a little again, but again Dracula just held him in place.

“Why suddenly…”

Dracula sighed, looking incredibly put out.

“I was so very nice today,” he said, his voice still a disgruntled growl. “I deserve a reward.”

A little shiver ran through Eskel again. He swallowed. “...I’m the reward?”

Instantly, Eskel thought of a few dozen different things that Dracula might have in mind. Most of them were things that made Eskel want to run away as fast as he could. He took a breath and tried to calm himself. This was Dracula, who’d held him all through their stay at Steingard’s prison, who had marked him, claimed him, and would sometimes show up out of the blue for some cuddles. 

He was still a little worried. 

“Thank Geralt,” Dracula rumbled, plucking at a different part of Eskel’s clothes. “He sold you out.”

This was making less and less sense. He tried again. “What happens after I take my clothes off?”

Eskel was very afraid that he knew the answer to that question. He’d made it very clear that he wasn’t interested in sex with Dracula. But it was also true that Dracula had boundary issues at times. 

“This thing is way too hard and dirty.” Dracula’s lips turned down in distaste. “I would prefer skin to skin contact.”

“That’s not an answer!” Eskel snapped, strung out and nervous. The prickle of the claws at his neck was an ever present warning. Of what, Eskel wasn’t quite sure. 

Dracula sighed.

“The same thing that always happens.” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t be opposed to some sex, but I know you are unreasonably against it.”

That actually went a long way towards making Eskel feel better. He still burned a little with embarrassment at the whole idea, but they were by themselves, out in the woods. Not like there was anyone around to comment. And it was true that Eskel did enjoy the cuddling when it happened, though he was loath to admit it. 

It was still a relief to hear that Dracula wouldn’t be pressing for something else. Not that he ever really had...overtly, anyways. Some of his powers just seemed to drag a reaction out of Eskel whether he wanted it or not, which was always exceptionally awkward.

He licked his lips and nodded. “Alright.” Then he glanced quickly around, noting that the firewood he’d readied before he left in the morning was still intact. He’d learned his lesson from his first adventure with Alucard and Geralt. “It’ll get chilly soon. Mind if I start my fire? Put down my bedroll? Softer to lay on.”

Another grumpy sigh.

“I’ll take care of the fire.” Dracula sighed and made a slashing motion with his hand.

A black rip in the air appeared and leaked darkness into the air. Next, a flash of orange-red light appeared and a ball of fire sped out of the rip and circled Dracula with jerky little rings. Dracula pointed at the hollow Eskel dug out for the campfire before setting out for his hunt, and the ball of light went there with a whistle. It struck the piled wood and flared into a blaze that easily reached Eskel’s waist. Even from where he was standing he could feel the heat coming off of it.

Eskel blinked. Sure. Why not have an elemental act as the campfire. 

He shook his head and started to unbuckle his belts and armor. It didn’t take more than a moment or two to get his armored top undone, and all the while Dracula kept a hand on him. Most of his gear he laid out next to his pack, but his swords he kept with him. When he was down to his boots, pants, and shirt, he paused. 

“Ah, just a minute,” he said, his cheeks burning. He pulled back away from Dracula’s reach to go digging through his camping gear, digging up the bed roll. 

“If you would just stay at the castle we wouldn’t have all those problems.” Dracula harrumphed.

“We?” Eskel asked. “ _We_ are having problems?” As far as he was concerned, _he_ was having all the problems while Dracula had all the fun. Typical. 

He laid out the bedroll onto the ground, near enough to the fire to be warm but not too hot, then he laid his swords down next to it. What Dracula said actually sunk in then, and he paused, still kneeling next to the bedroll. “Wait, you’d want me at the castle?”

“You are mine. Why wouldn’t I want you there?” Dracula sounded honestly puzzled and no little bit frustrated. “All this chasing around is so bothersome!”

That simple declaration made Eskel shiver again, despite the heat of the fire. Part of him loved that someone wanted him so much that they wanted him nearby always, but part of him also quaked at the idea of being so bound. He pushed it out of his mind and focused on getting his shirt off.

“Is this enough?” he asked, gesturing at his bare chest.

“If I say no, will you continue stripping?”

“No.”

“Then it’s enough,” Dracula sighed, looking very put upon.

Before Eskel could say anything else, Dracula was next to him, pressed up against him. One hand threaded up into his hair and the other curled around his hip. The heavy armored coat that Dracula always wore dissolved into shadow, and suddenly there was a whole lot more skin contact going on then there was before. Dracula was warm against him. He was always so wonderfully warm. The feel of it wasn’t like anything or anyone else.

Then Eskel was being pushed down, Dracula’s hot body pressing at him until his back hit the bedroll. His breath was steadily pushed out of him as Dracula sprawled over him like he was a favorite mattress. 

Eskel _wheezed_.

Dracula made a happy little noise and pressed his nose under Eskel’s jaw. Then he shifted a little, obviously making himself comfortable.

Eskel wheezed some more. Fuck, but Dracula was heavy. He tried to shift a little, but Dracula just squeezed him tight for a moment, keeping him in place. 

Resigning himself to shallow breathing for a while, Eskel stilled. This clearly pleased Dracula, because he nuzzled into Eskel’s neck and breathed in deep. 

They stayed that way for a few minutes, with the tension slowly but surely draining out of Eskel’s body. As bizarre as this whole event was, it was still nice to be held. The fire was warm next to them, and the burning scent of Dracula’s power wrapped around him. The hand on his hip shifted to pet him down his side, and that felt very nice, too. 

Dracula’s other hand was still in his hair, not really holding him, but just resting. Eskel turned his head a little into it, hoping that Dracula might start carding through his hair. That always felt great. And since he was already doing the work of a portable mattress, he might as well get something nice out of it too.

Dracula seemed to hear his unspoken request and started slowly moving his hand through Eskel’s hair, short nails scratching ever so slightly at the skin there. Eskel felt a shiver travel down his neck and the whole length of his back. Damn, that felt good.

A happy little sound came out of him, and he didn’t even have the will to be bashful about it. He just held Dracula in a loose embrace, one hand trailing down the firm muscles of his side.

“Geralt sold me out, you said?” Eskel asked sleepily. 

“Yes,” Dracula responded immediately. “Said he was busy with a hunt. Told me to find you.”

“Hrm.” Eskel tilted his head into Dracula’s hand a little more, his eyes falling shut. He wanted to be irritated with Geralt. He was on a hunt too after all, but the head scratches were stealing the energy right out from him. “Alucard was busy, too, huh.”

The grumpy sigh he got in response was answer enough. 

For some reason, Dracula’s unhappiness bothered him. Eskel squeezed Dracula tight for a moment, relishing the heat and the pressure on him. Then he turned to nuzzle into Dracula’s hair, and breathed in the scent of darkness and embers. “Their loss,” he said quietly. 

The next rumble he got was definitely a happier one.

“Want to be the little spoon?” Dracula asked after a moment. The worst part was how honest the question sounded.

“As opposed to you squishing the breath right out of me?” Eskel asked. The annoyance was half hearted at best. Heavy as Dracula was, once Eskel got used to it, the weight on top of him felt comforting. Like an incredibly warm, breathing blanket. 

“You like it.” 

Eskel could feel the smile on Dracula’s lips, pressed against his neck. 

Eskel hummed noncommittally, and then nodded. “Sure. Let me shift around.”

It wasn’t easy, what with Dracula not helping much. Eskel had to wriggle and squirm to turn onto his side. Right as he was nearly settled, he suddenly realized that Dracula’s breathing was far too even during that whole process. He froze, now mostly on his side, and looked back at the vampire.

“Are you laughing?” he asked dangerously.

“Me?” Dracula said as innocently as possible. “Everybody knows I don’t laugh.”

Eskel glared at him and hunched his shoulders. That pretty much cinched it. Dracula absolutely was laughing at him. He slumped into a sprawl, not quite on his side and not quite laying on his front, resigned to the whole situation. Of course Dracula had to be an ass. 

“Don’t sulk,” Dracula murmured, finally moving enough to carefully nudge Eskel onto his side and fill the space behind him. “I liked you rubbing all over me like that.”

A shiver raced through Eskel, and he couldn’t figure out if it was from alarm or appreciation. 

Dracula’s hand, as warm as the rest of his body, came around to rest on the mark on Eskel’s chest. He’d noticed that it had expanded from the time he first got it in that damned cell. There were little tendrils going out of the bottom of it, like roots, and stretching over his chest. The tendrils were small yet, just a few inches, but he worried. If the mark was growing, what was it growing into?

He covered his hand over Dracula’s and pressed it into his skin. A sudden rush of nerves sang through him. “How big will the mark get?”

Dracula was quiet for a bit, stroking his fingers gently over the mark and eliciting gentle shivers from Eskel.

“No idea,” Dracula said eventually.

Eskel should have expected that answer, and it did nothing to ease the tension in him. But since Dracula seemed to be in an answering mood, he decided to press his luck. “Why doesn’t Geralt have a mark like this? He’s… _yours_ more than I am, I think.”

“Geralt’s mark is deeper.” Dracula said. “I gave him part of my own soul. Everybody who knows how to look will know that he belongs to me. His marks can’t get any more obvious.” Dracula shifted. “You are a different type.”

“What kind?”

“No idea. First time I did this.” Dracula shrugged.

It was hard to say if that was concerning or comforting. That was just how things with Dracula seemed to go, though. 

Eskel wanted to ask about his soul. Geralt had obviously traded a bit of his; the sorceresses had all talked about it. Whatever mark Eskel had with Dracula didn’t seem to go that far, as far as Eskel knew anyways. But something vaguely remembered from the end of his stint in Stiengard’s dungeon nagged at him. Both Dracula and Alucard had implied that Eskel had made some kind of deal, and he had the sinking feeling it wasn’t just the one that had gotten him new gear. 

But in the end, his courage failed him. Aside from the strange addition of occasional cuddle sessions with Dracula, things weren’t much different. He didn’t feel any different. Of course, the moment the rest of their little adopted family had seen his chest, he’d gotten the side-eye and a boatload of teasing, but none of the sorceresses had reacted to him the way they had to Geralt when they first saw him. 

There was the nagging hope that as long as he didn’t ask, as long whatever happened was never acknowledged, things could continue on as they were. Right now that was about all Eskel could deal with. 

The worry circled around in his head for a while longer.

Dracula snuffled into his neck. Eskel had to admit he liked the warmth and the closeness, liked the occasional and not always consensual cuddling sessions. He was _fairly_ certain that if he expressed real displeasure over the contact, Dracula would stop. Or possibly eat him. But it never came to that. 

Dracula pressed the tips of his teeth against the back of Eskel’s neck, just scraping the teeth gently over the skin, waking up the shivers again.

“What are you doing?” Eskel asked, not turning to look at Dracula. He kept his eyes on the unnaturally blazing flame. Only Dracula would think that summoning a fire elemental to serve as a camp fire was a reasonable or a better solution then simply lighting the wood Eskel prepared on fire.

“I like this,” Dracula announced. “Do you mind if I get a little drink from you?”

That question made the shivers turn into full on shudders as the memory of the last time Dracula bit him raced through Eskel’s head. To be honest, Eskel was a little surprised that Dracula had even asked. It seemed to be a little hit or miss with him. 

He thought it over. Dracula’s bite felt unbelievably good, but it always left him horny as fuck. The blood loss and bite wound wouldn’t be an issue, not with the potions he’d already consumed. 

“If I said no, would you not?” Eskel asked. 

Dracula hummed.

“I would wait ‘til you were asleep,” he said finally.

Eskel blinked into the fire and wished he could move enough to cover his face with both hands. Fucking Dracula. First he comes to take over Eskel’s hunt, then he drags him though the air via bats, squishes him into his own bedroll, and now wants to get Eskel’s blood. The man was a _menace_.

Well. At least Dracula was honest about his plans. 

He frowned, a thought suddenly occurred to him. “Have you done that to me before?”

“Drink from you while you sleep?”

“Yeah,” Eskel said. Now he had to wonder if every sex dream he’d had in the past several months was actually just the result of Dracula feeding on him at night.

“Nah,” Dracula said easily. “You are usually not as grumpy as today.” Then he hummed consideringly. “I thought I would be extra nice today since you are having such a bad day.”

That was an interesting thought; the idea that Dracula was trying to make Eskel happier. Forcibly happier, since the effects of the bite were so overwhelming. It didn’t change the fact that Dracula himself was responsible for part of Eskel’s grumpiness.

Still. It wasn’t like Dracula wasn’t getting anything out of the situation. He’d still get to feed off of Eskel’s blood. 

Eskel sighed. “If it’s happening one way or another, I’d rather be awake. And…” A blush burned at his cheeks, and he stared at the ground. “You need to hold me until I’m calm after.”

It was a little embarrassing to ask for, but he wanted to make sure. 

“That’s the idea,” Dracula murmured, already nosing around to the side of Eskel’s jaw. That man was such a creature of desire Eskel had trouble comprehending it. Dracula was always hungry for something. For sex, for touch, for people, for revenge. It was as if nothing he ever got was enough to slake his hunger. At the same time, he had more control over that hunger than anyone would have expected of him or anyone else, really. Eskel wondered if it was part of being a vampire, this endless need, this hunger Dracula never seemed to be able to quench.

Eskel shifted his head, letting Dracula at his neck. It was a stupid level of trust he was showing. If his carotid artery got broken he would bleed out in seconds. But Dracula had fed from him before and nothing like that had happened. He drank from Geralt, too, and Eskel knew with way too many details how that went. Even though his rational mind was sending up alarm bells, he realized he trusted Dracula not to harm him. Deep down, where his deepest instincts lived, he trusted the vampire.

Dracula’s teeth scraped gently over the side of his neck and then went in without fanfare. On the heels of the slight pain of fangs piercing his skin came pleasure. Deep and overwhelming, it made his heart speed up, its beat doubling and then tripling at the first suck. His nerves sang with pleasure and slow, burning ecstasy built up in him with every slow draw of blood. His toes curled and a shaky moan left his throat. It felt so good. So damned good to just lay there in front of the fire, body immobilized by the tight hold Dracula had on him, and let the pleasure sluice over him.

He reached for Dracula’s hand, the one pressed over his chest where the mark lived, and held on while his body tried to squirm uselessly. It felt too good. He couldn’t _not_ move. His whole body was alight with sensation, and he twisted against Dracula’s hold on him. 

There was a shift, a tightening of the hold those teeth had on his neck. Eskel went utterly boneless as pleasure spiked _hard_ through him. Before he could even so much as moan, Dracula rolled them both forward, pressing Eskel down into the bedroll and covering him up completely. That was when he realized just how achingly hard his cock was, because now it was pressed into the blanket under him. Dracula had him pinned, one hand still on his chest and the other snaked up to pull at his hair, leaving his neck open to the bite. 

Want screamed through him and he jerked in Dracula’s grip. The hand in his hair tightened, and Dracula pushed his hips down, caging him between his legs, and forcing Eskel’s body to stay still under him. With how tightly they were pressed together, Eskel could feel the hard length of Dracula’s cock shoved up against him, pressed into his ass. 

That should not have been sexy. Eskel didn’t like men, not like that. He’d never had any interest before. Except when he’d swallowed Dracula’s power in Steingard’s dungeon, and then again after when Dracula had drained it back out of him. And when Alucard had breathed power into him as well. And that one time when he woke up to Alucard cuddled up to him, still smelling strongly of sex.

And now again, with Dracula’s body pressed up against him. Holding him down. Pulling all of that pleasure out of his body. Everything was burning hot around him. He couldn’t even smell the fire anymore; there was only Dracula’s scent and the smell of skin and arousal. All he wanted to do was rut into the ground, but he was crushed too tightly to do anything. He could barely breathe, let alone twitch. 

Still, Dracula drank. Over and over, waves of pleasure washed through him. His heart screamed in his ears and his groin pulsed with need. He wanted to come so badly that he could taste it, but he was stuck. _Held_. 

Eventually the roaring pleasure drew away as Dracula carefully pulled his teeth out of Eskel’s neck. The relief and loss of it left Eskel limp in Dracula’s grip, panting like he’d run around the forest twice. Soft little licks covered his neck as Dracula laved up every spec of blood that he could. Eskel couldn’t move, and didn’t really want to. Not even to deal with the needy press of his cock against the ground.

“You drank potions,” Dracula said, his words slurring ever so slightly. He was rubbing his cheek along Eskel’s neck like a pleased cat. “A lot of them.”

“I was out hunting.” Of course he’d taken potions. 

Eskel managed to push Dracula away far enough he could get a glimpse at his eyes, the pupils so blown they all but covered the red. Dracula made a grumpy little noise and pulled Eskel against his chest like a favorite toy.

“...Are you high?” Eskel asked, not sure what to feel about it. Dracula was still hard, he could feel it pressed against his ass. But Dracula wasn’t doing anything with it. Even his touch wasn’t overtly sexual. He seemed happy with just cuddling Eskel and rubbing his face over his neck.

“You witchers and your potions,” Dracula said, molasses slow and very pleased. “Such a tasty combination.”

“You _are_ high.”

Dracula purred at him and continued rubbing his face over Eskel’s neck.

Fuck, but that felt good, too. Now that Eskel was all horny, it suddenly hit him that, yes, he had taken a full load of potions. Which meant his body was absolutely ready to go, and would be for some time yet. 

He groaned and tried to breathe into the bedroll under him. If he were anywhere near a town, he’d be in prime shape to go find a friendly hooker and wear her out for several hours. 

“That was very good.” Dracula breathed into his skin. “Such a good witcher.”

Heat coiled up in Eskel’s stomach, and a painfully hot blush broke across his face. The compliment was so honest, so sincere that it caused a number of complicated feelings to well up inside of him. 

Eskel shifted a bit, trying to edge out of Dracula’s grasp. Maybe if he could get some distance between them, he’d be able to calm down. But the moment he moved, Dracula reeled him back in, pressing them tightly together. 

“Mine,” Dracula said softly, and ran his teeth over Eskel’s neck. Then he snuggled in close, pressing his nose right under the hinge of Eskel’s jaw. “My witcher, my Eskel…”

The words trailed off, and then Dracula’s hold on him loosened slightly. He was still utterly crushed under Dracula’s body, squished right down into the bedroll. But the hand in his hair lost its grip. 

Eskel waited and tried to think of very unsexy things in an effort to get his body under control. This was thwarted by the way Dracula absently kneaded into the mark on Eskel’s chest. That soft, pulsing movement was just enough to remind him of where he’d _really_ like some friction, but wasn’t able to get any.

A puff of breath tickled at Eskel’s ear as Dracula sighed happily and crushed him a little closer. Something about that movement made Eskel go utterly still. 

Had Dracula fallen asleep?

He waited, still and listening. All he could sense was slow, even breathing and the faint, steady beat of Dracula’s heart. Eskel frowned. 

“Dracula?” he said, very softly. 

Nothing. Not a peep. Not even a shift. 

_Motherfucker._

Now Eskel was horny _and_ furious. All that time riling him up and Dracula didn’t even have the decency to stay fucking awake afterwards? 

Not that Eskel really wanted anything sexual to happen, but some head petting would have been nice. Something that at least showed Dracula was paying attention. Maybe something to help ease him down from being ready to rut into the ground. Even just letting him go would be better, because then Eskel could go _calm the fuck down_ elsewhere.

Instead he was just gonna hold on to Eskel like a toy. A frustrated, captured toy. 

Was that what he really was to Dracula? A toy? A pet? He remembered how the succubi kneeled to Dracula, whispering, _My Prince_. Then he thought of the demonic hounds and how they lapped adoringly at Dracula’s hand, while he paid them no mind. Had he become just another part of the menagerie? 

Eskel lay there and fumed. What was even more annoying was that rage didn’t seem to flag his erection at all. Dracula moved against him just enough to keep his body hopeful; the absent, wandering, greedy touches of a sound asleep cuddler. The scent of warm body beside him, the gentle prickle of Dracula’s power all around them, and the pulsing echoes of pleasure from the bite only served to keep his arousal alive.

Just when he was contemplating stabbing his way out of Dracula’s hold, the vampire stirred behind him. The hand on his chest slid down to his belly and stopped there, radiating mad heat.

Eskel lay still, his whole body tight as a bow string. He’d told Dracula no sex, and thus far the vampire had kept to that. But now he was asleep and _drunk_. It seemed possible that Dracula might not be able to keep his wandering hands to polite places. It was also completely unhelpful that Eskel’s body was more than on board for a little extra attention.

But Eskel would be damned if he’d let anyone drunkenly molest him. 

_Dracula is immortal. He can take a little stabbing_ , Eskel thought, eyeing his swords laying next to the bedroll. _I could use the steel one. That would probably hurt less, but still get the point across._

Dracula gave a purring sigh. His breath fanned over Eskel’s ear and he shifted behind him. The slow ripple of hard muscles all along Eskel’s back did not help him calm down at all. Also, he realized all over again, that Dracula was hard and unabashedly pressed against his ass still.

He slapped his own hand over Dracula’s and pressed it hard against his belly. He wouldn't allow it to move any lower, mostly because he very much wanted it to.

“If you move any lower I will break your fingers,” he growled, thrashing briefly in Dracula’s hold to make his point.

Dracula moved forward, putting more weight on Eskel. His legs shifted, tangling with Eskel’s and pressed down.

“Such a growly witcher,” Dracula purred, still sounding unbearably pleased.

“Oh, are you awake now?” Eskel couldn’t help but say. He should just keep his mouth shut, but he was too horny and pissed. 

“Hmmm.” Dracula exhaled against Eskel’s skin, awakening the shivers again. “You woke me up.” He rubbed his nose behind Eskel’s ear.

Fuck, but that felt very nice. Eskel couldn’t help but tilt his head into it, just a little. He still growled under his breath, put out by the treatment thus far.

“You are very grumpy still,” Dracula said slowly. “Should I bite you again?”

Eskel hissed like a kettle just about to boil.

“If you do I will personally remove your fangs,” Eskel said matter of factly.

“Really?” Dracula dragged the tips of his fangs over Eskel’s skin. Not biting but teasing, making Eskel hyper aware of his skin. “Don’t you have a better use for them?”

Eskel held back a shudder. As good as Dracula’s bite felt, it didn’t make up for being ignored after. “What use is that? Getting me all---” He snarled in frustration, unable to get out the right words. He couldn’t think of an answering barb that would make sense. 

“You don't have to suffer like that,” Dracula shifted again, a long, sinuous undulation that made Eskel force his body still just to keep from rubbing back into him.

“And you don’t have to be an _ass_ and pass out on me.” 

“Should I help?” Dracula was still speaking slowly, his words thick like molasses. His hand twitched under Eskel’s and the tips of his fingers stretched towards Eskel’s lower belly.

“I can get meaningless sex anywhere,” Eskel said softly. “I don’t…you don’t get to just…take what you want and check out on me.”

“I didn’t go away,” Dracula said, sounding less pleased and more defensive. “I made sure you were wrapped up nicely.”

“Not good enough,” Eskel snapped, his heart pounding. He wasn’t completely sure what he was arguing about. Or rather, he was, he just wasn’t willing to say it out loud yet. 

“Then tell me,” Dracula said murmured. “Say what you want.”

The words swelled up in Eskel’s throat and choked him. His cheeks burned and his eyes prickled. It was nearly a painful thing to admit what he needed, not just to Dracula but to himself, too. 

“I like that you make me…you make me feel good. But.” He swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. “But I, I need you to care after. To help me feel not so alone.” Frustrated tears welled up in his eyes, and he cursed himself for being so weak. He shouldn’t fucking need this. He shouldn’t need any of it. “I’m pissed because you got what you wanted and then you left me to ride out the after effects without helping.”

“I thought I was helping.”

Why wouldn’t the words come out right? Eskel growled in frustration. He was so bad at this. Finally, he shook his head. “I don’t know how to explain. I need you to, to…” He sighed. “At the very least, wait until I’m not trying to fuck myself into the ground before you take a nap. I’m going out of my head with frustration. You know I don’t want sex, so…” He clawed at the ground for a moment, as the desperation leaked out of him the only way it could, in nervous movement. “So pet me. Talk to me. Tell me you fucking give a shit about me.”

He burned with shame. If there was a convenient pit or cliff he could have thrown himself into, he absolutely would have. Witchers were heartless. Emotions were a weakness he shouldn’t have, and long term ties were a lie. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, slumping into the ground, suddenly too tired to keep up with the anger. Dracula would do what he was going to do anyways. 

“I wouldn’t do this with just anyone,” Dracula said, moving his hand back to Eskel’s chest. “I wouldn't let myself sleep beside anyone else other than you or my lovers.” He covered the mark again and this time it pulsed as something in the mark called to Dracula. It sang through Eskel’s nerves, a series of hot zings that lit the mark up. “I told you that you are the only one carrying my mark.”

That lit something warm and comforting in Eskel’s stomach, to know that whatever insanity this whole situation was, it was something special to Dracula. “Show me,” he begged softly. “Help me calm down. Or, fuck, don’t. Just touch me and…” He took a breath, and thought about Alucard. The way he would cuddle into Eskel when he was cold and high on blood. “Do you know why Alucard is so cuddly after he feeds? He needs warmth, because he’s always so Gods be damned cold, but he needs the connection just as much. He wants someone to care about him. He’s been alone for a very long time.”

It was a hell of a lot easier to approach this sideways, relating it to how Alucard interacted with them both. Easier to point out what someone else needed, rather than what he craved. 

“Alucard can’t always take what I feel for him.” Dracula’s voice dropped, becoming lower and somehow more dangerous. “It’s why he looks for softer, gentler companionship.”

That did make a fair bit of sense. But it wasn’t all of the truth. Maybe it was just the truth as Dracula knew it. 

“You try, though, don’t you? You’d burn the world down for him.” Eskel shook his head. This isn’t what he was driving at. “That’s beside the point, though. Sex is good, and Alucard enjoys it, but that’s not the be all, end all of the experience for him. The fact that you love him, deeply, passionately, _that’s_ what makes the experience for him. You care.” 

He paused to gather his thoughts. At some point he was going to have to talk about himself and what he wanted. If only to clarify in his own mind what he expected. “I like sex. I’m still not really sure I want it with men...” He side-eyed Dracula. “But I enjoy sex in general. That’s not what I get out of this, though. With you and me. I’m tired of being alone. I’m tired of every touch being painful or impersonal. When you fell asleep without making sure I wasn’t going to go out of my fucking mind with need, it made me think you didn’t give a shit.”

Eskel held onto the hand at his chest, suddenly wondering if all of this had been a massive mistake. 

“If I ever stop ‘giving a shit’ the mark will disappear,” Dracula said. “It’s a physical manifestation of my will, not a tattoo.”

“That’s good to know.” Eskel breathed a quiet sigh, still a little frustrated. He didn’t know how else to explain things. At the very least, most of the raging lust from Dracula’s bite had faded away. “I don’t know how to say any of this. I’m not…good at this.”

Dracula was quiet behind him for a long moment, slowly patting Eskel’s chest.

“I will grant you what you ask,” Dracula said finally. “I like your company, your loyalty, and your eyes when you look at me.”

Eskel tried to shift in place, turning a little so he could look at Dracula. He furrowed his brow. “What do my eyes do when I look at you? What do you see there?”

“You know what I am,” Dracula said thoughtfully. “But you don’t judge ahead of time. You feel a healthy fear of what I am capable of, but not of me. You still see me as a person.” Dracula scratched his fingers across Eskel’s chest gently. “I also like that you are yourself a unique mix of dark and light. You stand out from the grey masses. You are unique to me.”

A minute or two passed as Eskel thought that over. He found himself relaxing into Dracula’s hold again, put at ease by the soft drag of fingers on his chest. 

“I like your hands on me,” Eskel said very quietly, almost afraid to admit it out loud. “I like how you make me feel safe. Treasured. I like how honest you are, even with your darkness. You are unabashedly, unapologetically _yourself_ , and I think I envy that a little.” He looked up to Dracula’s burning red eyes. “I like how you can make me forget everything else in the world.”

“If you let me take you to bed, I could _really_ make you forget everything else in the world.”

Eskel barked out a short laugh, and shook his head. 

“I’m serious,” Dracula said, voice a velvety rumble. “Between the breathing of power into you and the bite, I could have you coming for hours on end. However advanced your stamina is, I could very well make you pass out from pleasure.”

“I’ve heard the stories,” Eskel said with a touch of dry amusement. Both Geralt and Alucard had a habit of oversharing. “You can wear Geralt out, and he’s more enhanced than I am. I’m good, but he’s better. At that, anyways.”

The thought of it did send a little wave of confusing feelings through him, though. It was hard to parse. How much of it was just left over sensation from the pleasure of the bite and how much was actual interest? Since he’d never had the faintest desire to be with a man prior to his encounters with Dracula and Alucard, he was inclined to believe it was just the bizarre effects of their vampiric power. 

He spent several long minutes mulling it over, but eventually, he shook his head again. “No. Your scent is enough. Your hand in my hair and at my side.”

“The offer stands,” Dracula murmured softly. “It’s not a now or never type of offer. I want you in my bed,” Dracula declared finally. “But that fact doesn’t have to mean anything to you.”

To hear it said so plainly made Eskel shudder a bit. He closed his eyes and focused on the feel of Dracula’s body behind him, the arms around him, and how puffs of breath still tickled at his neck. “You’ll let me decide how far we go?”

“Hmm,” Dracula rumbled. “I might nudge you from time to time.”

“I can live with that,” Eskel said with a nod. He thought back to all the times he really deep down wanted someone to hold him, but would have rather stabbed himself than admitted it. Dracula had a way of finding him and forcing him into accepting the care he really wanted. “As long as you listen if I say no, then a little nudging is alright.” 

He hesitated a moment, then said, “Would you run your fingers through my hair? You…” He swallowed hard. “You could drink from me again, if you wanted. Just pet me or talk to me afterwards, until I relax again.”

“I’ll touch you as much as you want,” Dracula promised. “I won’t bite you again today.”

Eskel couldn’t tell if he was relieved or disappointed. Either way, he nodded. Truth be told, now that the adrenaline from earlier had worn off, he was more than a little tired. 

The talking left him even more exhausted than most of Vesemir’s training schedules. He wasn’t used to that. Wasn't used to feeling so much. It made him wonder. How much of the ‘witchers have no emotions’ stuff was a part of their mutations and how much was just the way they were taught? If they believed they didn't feel loneliness, fear, or desperation, would that make them really not feel it or just push it deep down?

Dracula shifted a little, settling his weight more comfortably on top of him. He nosed into Eskel’s jaw, taking in the scent there. Eskel tilted his head up into it, almost baring his throat. The arms around him tightened for a moment, as Dracula rested his lips on Eskel’s neck. Then there was the soft touch of a hand in his hair. 

Eskel closed his eyes and relaxed into the touch, letting himself feel it. Feel the care, the pleasure of not being alone, of being taken care of.

He lay there, quiet and warm, surrounded by heat from the fireplace and Dracula's own and thought that maybe it wasn’t so bad if he did feel so much. When there were people to share it with, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to open himself to whatever new thing was slowly being born in his chest.

 

The End.


End file.
